


wind, take me home

by DecayingPapers



Series: girasoli alla finestra [1]
Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Character Study, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Gen, M/M, the ofc is matteo's grandma, this is matteo rekindling his relationship with her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 21:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecayingPapers/pseuds/DecayingPapers
Summary: Summertime used to be this: blinding sunshine, peeling skin, fingers sticky with the oranges they ate on the terrace as the sun set ridiculously late and crickets were starting to chirp around them.–Matteo thinks about family and missing people.





	wind, take me home

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i thought of this fic while druck was still airing but only decided to write it recently. there's a lot of projecting and even more love in this.
> 
> the title is from 'rise of the guardians'

Summertime used to be this: blinding sunshine, peeling skin, fingers sticky with the oranges they ate on the terrace as the sun set ridiculously late and crickets were starting to chirp around them. But then came the fights and too-loud quiet at home; came his mother in bed, the curtains always drawn; came his father slamming the door one last time.

 

The last summer Matteo spent at his grandma’s in Italy was when he was fourteen. He was fourteen when he believed a summer could turn the whole world around.

 

He tells David that as they sit at the kitchen table, legs swinging. It's late autumn and they're both done with their days; on his way back from a lecture David texted he was coming over, and so here they are, both leaning on the table, talking in hushed voices. If Matteo could pick a moment to live in, it would be one of the evenings like this one. It's dark outside and they can hear the wind; there are two mugs of cooling tea and nothing else between them.

 

On the table David is playing with Matteo's fingers, hands always so careful with him it makes Matteo want to cry.

 

They visited David's godmother last weekend and that might be why they end up talking about family, or it might be not. The train ride to Fürstenberg was probably the most stressful two hours of Matteo's life and he was so nervous he hadn't slept the night before, which resulted in him falling asleep on the couch while eating dessert. David found it hilarious, Matteo didn't, but at the end of the day they all had a lovely time. David's godmother's house was small and warm, and smelled of the scented candles her wife apparently made. They both kissed Matteo's cheeks when he gave them the flowers that hadn’t taken the train journey well at all.

 

On the train back David told Matteo about his godmother, his mother's sister, and how he stayed with her for three weeks after he first came out to his parents. David talked about his parents too, a bit, but mostly about her and Laura, and Matteo didn't push him. His voice trembled, just a little, when he said they're the best family he could have wished for, and Matteo held his hand. The noise the night train made as it dragged on towards Berlin lulled them to sleep for a couple more minutes.

 

"This is family, I guess," Matteo answers now, the flat quiet around them. ‘I mean, some parents suck at being parents, and then we have to raise ourselves.’

 

David snorts, but it's not mean-spirited – it almost never is, with him, and Matteo loves this boy so much he could burst.

 

This really is family, his friends, and David, and his mum even, Matteo thinks, because they’veboth been putting effort into being there for each other. Matteo catches himself thinking that about Laura too, more and more often, and since Sunday – David's godmother and her wife. It's a scary thought, having people care and caring for them, but he's been getting better at accepting that.

 

"My mum got a birthday card from grandma again. I mean, my dad's mum. I don't know how she doesn't know they're not together anymore but-," Matteo shrugs. He should have figured his father wouldn't exactly come running to her to explain how he left his wife and kid without a word, but shouldn't she at least suspect something wasn’t okay? She probably knew anyway.

 

"Have you talked to her?" David asks, voice quiet.

 

"Not really, lately. Just. She was always close with my dad and I just…" Matteo doesn’t finish, doesn’t really have to. David gets it, because of course he does. He just nods and waits for Matteo to find words that make sense. "We used to spend every summer at her house. I mean my parents, me, all the cousins. It was a whole thing." Matteo leans back and looks at the ceiling, suddenly all too aware of how vividly he still remembers the heat of the Italian sun on his skin. "We stopped coming when my mum got worse, and then one thing led to another and I kind of... Stopped talking to anyone from my dad’s side of the family." Matteo shrugs again and looks at David. "We both did," he adds in a small voice.

 

David nods again and they stay quiet for a while.

 

"Also, uh, speaking of post and stuff, Adele sent Laura and I a bunch of her new candles, do youmaybe want some?"  
  
***

 

Matteo wishes the topic didn’t stay on his mind, but it does. He should have expected that. It’s surely not for the lack of trying – Matteo tries to forget, tries to distract himself, but it’s not working at all.

 

It’s just, he keeps remembering things he thought were long gone; dried-out grass scratching the soles of his feet, sticky sunscreen that didn’t work most of the time anyway, fresh tomatoes for breakfast. Matteo knows it’s silly, knows it all shouldn’t mean that much, but the truth is, he misses her. He misses her laugh, misses how her kitchen seemed to be the only place in the world that wasn’t scorching hot, misses how she never let them win in board games but always made the losers cocoa.

 

Matteo has been sitting on it for so long it feels like this longing could swallow him whole any second now, and he knows it shows. Or, at least, he knows David has noticed.

 

They talk about that, too – things they miss but can’t have anymore. David tells Matteo about the park he used to love going to back when he still lived with his parents. It was small and the trees were so old and tall they sometimes only let the tiniest bits of sunlight come through. David says he used to walk through it on his way back from school, on the path right in the middle of it, and it would feel like going underground. He tells Matteo he tried going there again, once, after he moved, but the path seemed to split in half in front of him instead of helping him navigate.

 

But David also tells him of the plants in his room, and in his and Laura’s kitchen. They both love them, Matteo can tell, but it’s not just that, as it turns out. Some of them are the plants David learned about in that very park. Some others are ones his mother used to keep on the windowsill of their living room. David sometimes sits by his desk, fingers barely touching the leaves and nails dirty with soil, and that’s when Matteo most wants to wrap his arms around David and squeeze every ounce of doubt out of him.

 

***

 

Matteo decides he wants to call his grandma in the middle of the night. He wakes up, the moon barely visible through the dirty balcony window, and knows he needs to call her, because how could he ever know otherwise. Matteo knows he both wants and needs to do it, but, just to be safe, he gets back under the covers and presses his face into the sleep-warm pillow, hoping to have forgotten the realisation by the time he wakes up.

 

***

 

"Maybe she’s sleeping?"

 

Matteo has been pacing around his room for so long David is sure it’s more exercise than he would have got all week otherwise.

 

"Baby, you told me yourself she was always the last one to go to bed and it’s literally five in the afternoon," David says from where he’s sitting on Matteo’s bed, back against the wall and eyes following his boyfriend with a bit of worry. ‘You know you don’t have to call her, but you’ve also said you want to.’

 

"I do, I just–" Matteo flops onto the bed, right next to David’s leg. "I don’t think I can actually remember her that well and I’m scared she’ll be too much like my dad," he mumbles into the duvet.

 

"You still need some way to find that out, you know?" David says, almost matter-of-factly, his voice way less nervous than he’s feeling, and he combs his fingers through Matteo’s hair.

 

"I know."

 

David waits.

 

"I guess what this is about is that I don’t… I don’t want her to take his side. I don’t want her to say stuff in his defence or try to convince us to give him one more chance, because he doesn’t want it." There. There it is, Matteo thinks. He knows David wouldn’t laugh at him, but he still keeps his face pressed into the duvet, not knowing what answer he might get.

 

"She might do that, I don’t know her," David responds slowly, his fingers never halting. "But she might also not do that."

 

Matteo sighs. He knows. He feels around the bed for his phone and finds it under a pillow.

 

"Do you think I should do it?" he asks, once more, as he pulls up the number he was looking for.

 

David just stares at him, and Matteo knows what that means, has been on the receiving end of that look far too many times. David thinks Matteo should do what he thinks is right, apparently, and of course he appreciates it but he wishes he didn’t have to press ‘call’ all by himself.

 

Matteo’s thumb hovers above the screen for a second, and then it’s done. It’s happening. He’s calling her. David sends a grin his way and Matteo just has to flip him off where he’s still lying halfway on top of the bed.

 

The signal is ringing in Matteo’s ears. He almost hopes she won’t pick up, which definitely is the reason why she does, the soft greeting catching him by surprise.

 

It’s everything Matteo has been expecting this moment to be when he dared to think about it, but it also isn’t; he almost forgot he would need to actually talk to her in Italian, forgot the way his grandma spoke as if she was letting you in on a big secret. He turns over so that he’s lying on his back and squeezes his eyes shut. David’s hand is still in his hair, a very welcome distraction – it’s just enough for Matteo not to get too caught up in his own thoughts during the conversation.

 

"Hi, grandma. Uh, this is Matteo," he exhales softly, surprised by the way Italian feels on his tongue. It’s been so long since he actually spoke it to someone.

 

It’s quiet on the line; way too quiet for Matteo’s liking. He opens his eyes, covers his phone and mouths to David, _this can’t go well._ There’s worry in David’s eyes, of course there is, and his fingers still for a moment. But then–

 

"Hello, honey! I almost didn’t recognise your voice, it’s been too long." She doesn’t sound angry, or like she’s about to yell at him; Matteo thinks she mostly sounds like she has really been missing her grandson. He can’t tell yet, though, so he tells her how he was busy with finals, and then with graduating. It’s harmless enough. Matteo can’t believe they’re actually talking.

 

It’s not the smoothest conversation by any means, to be frank, and sometimes Matteo just straight up doesn’t understand what she’s saying. Apart from that, though, it’s okay – they never fought or anything, Matteo thinks, so why wouldn’t it be. He jus stopped calling her. There’s bitter guilt settling down in his stomach, but he does his best to ignore it for now; make it something for future Matteo to worry about, not-catching-up-with-his-favourite-grandma Matteo.

 

However, just like he expected, the moment comes. They’ve talked about school, which, surprisingly enough, didn’t upset Matteo that much, and about the weather, the summer. His grandma has asked about Jonas, because he came with them one summer and, understandably, she adored him. Now, though, she’s asking about his mother, and suddenly Matteo doesn’t think it was such a good idea anymore.

 

The line goes silent, but this time it’s Matteo’s turn to say something, apparently. He looks at David, who probably doesn’t understand shit from what they’ve been saying, but who also picks up on Matteo’s panicked expression. He sits up straight.

 

"What is it? Do you want to hang up?" David asks, voice tinged with worry. He must at least have an idea of where the conversation is headed.

 

Matteo just sighs and shakes his head, and just like that his eyes are closed again.

 

"She’s doing okay," Matteo says quietly, and it’s not a lie. His mum has been doing better, with ups and downs, but he suspects that’s not exactly what his grandma had in mind. His throat hurts a little. "She really liked the birthday card you sent her."

 

There’s just no way they won’t end up talking about his father, Matteo knows it. Feels the impending question in the way his grandma’s words trail off, almost hears it in the silence between meaningless follow-up questions. Matteo also knows there’s no way either of them will hang up before it’s addressed.

 

Eventually, it’s her who does it. It’s seemingly innocent, just three words: "And your dad?" They ring in Matteo’s ears, but he swallows and looks at David; he can talk to her about it, he can tell her. He can take excuses, can go without talking to her for another couple of months. And, even though he keeps telling himself that and theoretically knows that’s all true, Matteo finds he doesn’t want it to go that way – and that might just be way, way worse.

 

"What about him? I don’t know, he left." It does come out a little harsher than Matteo intended, buthis voice is still quiet. He barely ever feels the words as they leave his mouth. It’s not like he can take it back now, so he waits. And waits. David, and Matteo has no idea how he knows, is leaning over him a little now, hand slipping into his, fingers squeezing.

 

Matteo has heard his grandma swear before – it was inevitable with a house full of children and teenagers, and their parents; it was the parents the swearing was usually directed at. However, Matteo has also never heard his grandma fight with his dad, or say anything unkind to or about him. That is, until now.

 

The second he hears how angry she sounds, how disappointed (and not at him, not at Matteo, for _once not at him_ ), he lets himself feel. He missed her, and he lets that thought in with no remorse now, no guilt, no sense of betrayal. It floats, swirls around him, and then overflows.

 

She must have heard what happened – Matteo’s guess is that everyone in the family has. Now, though, now he’s sure; and it’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest. David’s face as he watches Matteo visibly relax with the relief is priceless, and Matteo squeezes his hand. God, he loves David.

 

His grandma is not very proud of her son, to put it lightly, and has apparently declared him unwelcome in her house. She says how being done with a relationship or needing to leave is not the same as disappearing, and suddenly Matteo is ten again, his knees skinned, and she’s putting Winnie the Pooh band-aids on them. He breathes.

 

The call doesn’t end there, neither of them wants it to. Matteo tells his grandma of a recipe he tried out last week and how awfully it turned out, but also boasts about the dinner he cooked yesterday. He almost tells her it was for David, almost says he put on his most cheesy playlist; almost laughs about how he got the whole front of his shirt wet when David insisted on at least helping him wash the dishes afterwards. He doesn’t, not for now.

 

Matteo thinks of how much he wants to tell her, thinks he might if they just keep talking for a couple of minutes longer. But his grandma says she needs to go, has to walk the dog and, of course, she’s a grandma, so she has a landline. And so Matteo doesn’t tell her. Another time, he thinks. He’ll tell her another time.

 

***

 

Matteo doesn’t want to wait too long before calling his grandma again, but life gets in the way, so the next time they talk is two weeks before Christmas. It’s actually her who calls him, too, and something squeezes at Matteo’s heart at that thought. He remembers, so very clearly, the board hung up over the little table with the landline on it. She had a chair there, the cushion worn out, and a mug with pens, and there were phone numbers pinned to the board, so many that sometimes she had to squeeze several on one post-it so that they would all fit. Technically, Matteo knows she wrote down his number the last time they talked, but it still makes him sniffle a bit. No one has to know that.

 

They're out, David and him, and trying to get some gift shopping done. There are decorations lighting up the whole street, fresh snow sticks to road signs and their eyelashes, and David has just been pointing out something when Matteo's phone rings.

 

He digs it out of his pocket, gloved hand clumsy in the biting December cold, and shows the caller ID to David. Matteo takes off one of his gloves and picks up the call, his other hand slipping into David’s; holding hands feels weird with the gloves on, but he’d take it any day.

 

"No, grandma, I’m not busy," Matteo says, but he wants to say more. He has been getting better at saying things though, not without setbacks, but slowly and surely, so he adds: "I’m just out with my boyfriend, looking for Christmas presents." He makes sure to speak clearly for once and smiles at David. Matteo’s breath almost doesn’t stutter.

 

There’s a beat of silence, two beats, and then there isn’t – she goes on to talk Matteo’s ear off about how grown up he is, how they’ve all grown up so fast when it seems like they were only learning to walk in her garden yesterday and now he’s graduated and has a boyfriend. Matteo leans into David, mouths ‘ _I told her_ ’ and listens. Her voice really is good with secrets.

 

He asks about her plans for the upcoming holidays, not as anxious to hear and be reminded of the family life as he was a couple of weeks ago. She’s enough for now.

 

It turns out some of his cousins are coming, as well as most of the elderly aunts and uncles. Matteo’s grandma tells him of all the dishes she’s going to make; they’re good memories, mostly – cooking with her. It’s evenings spent in the slowly cooling summer air, peeling carrots and washing fruit. Matteo tells her he’ll try to make one of their dishes himself this year.

 

Him and David keep wandering in the street, looking into some shops through the windows. The green and red lights from the displays make David look like home, but that may be because Matteo has come to think that of him quite often.

 

They agree to call again over Christmas and just before they hang up, Matteo’s head perks up and he says: "I love you, grandma." She tells him she loves him, too.

 

Matteo drags David into a shop, trying to convince him it’s just because he’s cold. David tilts his head and smiles like he believes Matteo.

 

"She said she loves me, and that she’d love to meet you one day," Matteo says, almost shyly, as they walk past a shelf stuffed with loose leaf teas; it feels weird to admit that, though he’s been trying to change it lately; it’s some work. David slows down a little at that and digs his finger into Matteo’s ribs, still smiling. Matteo’s chest feels too small for his heart. ‘I love you.’

 

It never loses its appeal, the words.

 

He actually gets some tea – black with dried orange, and it comes in a cute little container. They decide to call it a day afterwards and head towards David and Laura's. The snow is still falling, the cold keeps biting their cheeks and noses, and when they're almost there and Matteo turns his head to look at David, his breath catches in his throat. Cheeks flushed with the cold, snow sticking to his eyelashes and melting as it falls on his nose, David exudes warmth like a fireplace.

 

"What is it?" he asks, voice somehow still tinged with laughter. Or maybe that's because he looks back, and Matteo must look like a lovestruck fool. Matteo shakes his head to dismiss it, but as they step into the building David pulls him into a freezing cold kiss that somehow still makes Matteo's stomach feel like it's melting.

 

The next morning Matteo mails the cute container with the tea, alongside with a card that David insists on making, all the way to Italy.

 

***

 

Matteo pushes the door open with his foot and tries not to spill the cocoa from the two mugs he’s holding as he walks into his room. David is still in bed but he must have got up at some point while Matteo was in the kitchen, even if it was only to throw on a jumper and grab his phone from where it had been charging. Now he half-sits, half-lies on a bunch of pillows, the covers pulled up snugly, and frowns at his phone. Matteo sets the mugs down on his bedside table and slides under the duvet; suddenly, the idea of staying out in the flat's morning chill seems unbearable. David seems very absorbed by whatever he’s doing though, and when Matteo tries to get him to warm up his hands, he just huffs and leans away a little.

 

"Give me a second, I need to keep my streak." Matteo hums questioningly at that, glances at David’s phone and then turns towards him, a teasing, eye-crinkling grin on his face.

 

"David," Matteo says slowly, taking in the boy’s furrowed brows, "are you learning Italian?" David just nods absentmindedly, somehow unaffected by Matteo’s teasing.

 

"I’m trying to, but Duolingo isn’t doing shit for me," he answers, visibly frustrated, as he taps at his phone impatiently. It’s because of how off-hand David is about admitting that that Matteo just leans on him again and waits.

 

Right there, Matteo’s head fitting between David’s jaw and his clavicle, is where he feels like the world can’t touch him. David’s skin is warm despite the chilly air, life buzzing right underneath it, and he smells like something Matteo has known all his life, though maybe he used to have no idea what it was.

 

"Like, how am I supposed to impress your grandma with the fact that I can say that it was the girl who ate the tomatoes?"

 

***

 

Despite having been using the landline since forever, Matteo’s grandma actually knows how to use Skype, too. Matteo has no idea whether it’s him who is more surprised to learn that or her who is more offended for having been thought unable to do it. That’s how him and David end up on Matteo’s bed, sides pressed close together in order to fit into the laptop’s camera, and waiting for the green dot to appear next to her name.

 

"She said four, right?" David asks, picking at a thread of one of Matteo’s pillows. Matteo nods, and then his head turns suddenly.

 

"Wait, we’re in the same time zone, right?" he asks and only slumps back against the wall with a sigh of relief when David hums in confirmation. They sit in silence for a while, staring at the screen of Matteo’s laptop expectantly. David exhales and takes Matteo’s hand in his, fingers clammy.

 

"She’s going to love you, I promise," Matteo says, not taking his eyes off the Skype window. David squeezes his fingers but says nothing. He doesn’t have to, not with how loud his thoughts are. "You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do it," Matteo adds softly and feels David shake his head. He does.

 

Even though they haven’t turned their heads once, they somehow still manage to miss the moment Matteo’s grandma appears online, so they both jump a little at the incoming call. Matteo takes a deep breath, looks at David and brushes a strand of hair out of his eyes, and accepts it.

 

Matteo thinks back at all this time he spent missing a feeling of family, thinks of how he’s been building one back up, slowly, person by person. It’s not that it wasn’t complete when it was just his friends, and then David, his mum, Laura, David’s family; it’s that with each connection, he can feel the love in his heart expand.

 

He can feel it as David stumbles his way through a couple of sentences that don’t really make sense in the context of the conversation the three of them are trying to have, but that Matteo’s grandma praises him for anyway; David beams and smiles joyfully in that way that makes Matteo wonder how the whole world isn’t at least half in love with him.

 

Matteo can feel it as his grandma mentions that his cousins still visit her during the summer, mostly on their own now, and that maybe him and David would like to come too. They promise to think about it if they can make the train tickets work; Matteo only knows that not that long ago he would never have agreed.

 

Now though, when he thinks of summertime and all the scorching hot days he spent in the sun, he can see his father there less and less. It’s mostly the dry air and the cold water, skinned knees and dirt under all their fingernails that was sometimes impossible to get out. It’s laughter in the kitchen, and not being allowed to sit on the countertop, and his grandma being the first one to break that rule anyway.

 

It’s mostly peaceful when he thinks back to all of that, and to his own surprise Matteo can imagine himself wanting it again at some point.

 

For now though, it’s just the three of them; David, with his voice stumbling a little over the foreign words, Matteo’s grandma, with her eyes safe and inviting, and Matteo, who settles his back more comfortably against the pillow and dares to think of a home.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) i hope you liked this! i appreciate any and all feedback, including kudos and comments  
> 2) thank you to the druck gays only discord for cheering on me while i wrote this, i love you all so much!  
> 3) you can find me on tumblr at @sweterki


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